"That old Lassan," he remarked, "told me the metal evolution would reverse if we got the emanation without letting the stuff touch us. Well, he was a sport." "Yes, but--" said Marta Lami, standing up and feeling of herself. "Look what they did to us. My toes are flexible and my figure bulges in such queer places. I'll never be able to dance again. Oh, well, I suppose it doesn't matter--I'll be marrying the boy friend anyway." She took Sherman's hand and he blushed with embarrassment. "Good idea," said Murray Lee and looked hard at Gloria. She nodded and turned her head. "Ho hum," said Ben Ruby. "The dictator of New York seems to be _de trop_. How does one get out of here?" THE END * * * * * [Transcriber's Note: Hyphen variations left as printed.] End of Project Gutenberg's The Onslaught from Rigel, by Fletcher Pratt